


Places

by Qpenguin98



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Bro just doesnt know what to do with Dave, Dave's really just sad and angsty okay, M/M, Moirails, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Rose is his cousin but still his friend, Sadstuck, Strider Feels, Suicide Attempt, Wanderlust, but not the whole real deal, paleships, what else do i tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qpenguin98/pseuds/Qpenguin98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want to go places, Dirk. I can't get stuck here. And I can feel it. I can feel myself getting cemented and I can't do it anymore!"</p><p>Where Dave's got an insatiable need to travel and his brothers try to understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Places

Leaving.

Escaping.

Getting out of this fucking place you call home.

Here is cramped crowded close. There is open spacial free.

The fact is, here is not for you. Staying in one place has NEVER been for you.

Your dreams, though they feel like memories, consist of far off places. Full of rivers and oceans. Frogs and lava. It's the weirdest assortment of places and you want to visit them all. You're aware that they don't exist, but places like them do. And you want, no, NEED to go to them. To take pictures, draw replicas, to live.

Dirk doesn't know. He knows something's off, but he doesn't know how off. You feel suffocated in this apartment. It's too familiar, dull, grounding.

You're terrified of ending up stuck here.

Dirk actually asked why you were acting weird one day. He's your twin, of course he asked. You told him you were tired. Because you are. Tired of this anxious feeling. This empty feeling. This feeling of stuck. He didn't want to accept your answer, but he did. So did your Bro. They just accepted tired as semi plausible. You both hate them and love them for it.

-

There's times when your bags are completely packed. You've got this old bag that looks small but holds a shit ton of stuff. And then there's another, smaller, bag with things you'd need to grab quickly. Money, snacky stuff, headphones, shit like that.

You've never gotten far and you've always left with ample time to get home before anybody notices. The farthest you got was the edge of the city on a bus. The driver made you get off and you stared at the street for an hour before turning around and walking back home. That was also the closest you were to getting caught. It was dark by the time you got home. Bro was out at some DJ gig and Dirk was on some Skype chat with Jake. You were able to stash the bags under your bed before he came in to check on you, laptop balanced precariously in his hands.

"Where've you been?"

"Places."

"Like?"

"Oh y'know. Underground strip clubs, side corner drug deals, the usual."

Dirk waved you off. You heard Jake quietly ask what was wrong with you. You'd blocked out the rest of the conversation with a door shut tight.

Now you're staring at the bags, sitting on your bed and holding the handles loosely. You've got no idea where you'd go. Hitchhike across America probably. Maybe go visit your friends. Stow away on a boat and sail to Jade's island.

Dirk and Bro are watching some weird MLP marathon that you want no part of. So you pull out your headphones from the bag, shove your luggage under your bed, and turn on music. You fall asleep slumped on your wall.

-

You've gotten nothing but Texas college letters. Nothing from anywhere else. You live in Houston but still.

The weight of "Oh fuck college" has been steadily dropping on you until now. Now it's completely on your shoulders, shoving you into your walls and floor as you scramble for the little items you're missing. Shoving them in your bag, you do a last glance over of your room and what you see makes your heart skip. Your camera. You almost forgot your fucking camera. You dumbass.

You place it gingerly in its case and swing it over your shoulder. The floor feels like it's moving instead of your feet. You hear Dirk ask where you're going and your response is immediate.

"Places."

The door slams behind you and the urge to sink down on it is quickly shot down as your hear footsteps nearing the plank of wood. You sprint down the stairwell and nearly trip twice. As you enter the lobby, you pass a girl that looks exactly like your cousin-

Wait. Rose?

She's got her hand gripped onto your arm exceptionally tight, nails digging into your jacket.

"Dave? Are you alright?"

You're about to tell her no, thanks, you're not all fucking right, but you realize what her grip means. She's not letting you go. She's going to make you stay. You shove her off of you and she stumbles backwards.

"I, uh, gotta leave."

You see Dirk burst past the stairwell doors before shoving your way outside. You take the main way to the bus stop simply because he'll expect you to take the back one.

The bus driver looks pissed as you get on right before the doors close. You pay her extra on the change pad and she doesn't look so pissed anymore.

The bus ride itself is uneventful, but it takes forever. Your leg's jumping at about a million miles an hour and everyone gives you a nasty look. It doesn't matter though. You're finally leaving.

The driver kicks you off at the edge of the city, nearest the east side. You thank her and leave. The ground is dusty as you sit, thumb out, back against a street sign. You don't expect much, but a cursory glance would be nice.

It takes a total of three hours, sixteen minutes, and seventeen seconds for someone to stop and when they do, you grab your stuff and start running. Away. Because fuck shit that's your brother's car.

Dirk gets out of the passenger's side and sprints after you. He always was faster. When his arms wrap around your waist you trip, pulling the both of you down with a sickening crunch. At first you're worried its one of your bones, but then you realize that your left ribs aren't touching the dirt. They're squishing into your camera bag.

He gets up off of you and drags you upright by your wrist. You wrench your hand out of his and pull your camera off your shoulder. Looking inside grants you a completely shattered lens and cracked plastic, some of it sticking into the inside of the camera.

"Fucking christ Dave what the hell are you doing?"

You stare at the broken remains of your only way out of Texas. A laugh bubble out of your throat and it's followed by an uncountable amount of others. It's that or crying and you really don't want to start sobbing in front of your brothers. Dirk puts his hand on your shoulder and it sends you into a fit of hysterics. Tears drip down your face and laughter falls out of your mouth as you drop your camera with shaking hands. There's absolutely no way the memory file survived that crunch.

Bro comes up next to you, worry written plain across his face for the first time in years. The feeling of stuck drops your stomach and you almost throw up with how hard you start crying. Bro wraps you up in his arms and you weakly try to push him off but he keeps you there for a long time. He leads you back to the car, shuffling you inside the vehicle next to Dirk. The ride home is silent.

-

Dirk and Bro pooled together for a new camera for your birthday. The memory card on the old one was bent beyond repair. You shove the new camera in a drawer with the old one.

Rose stays for a while. She'd come down from New York because, and quote, "Your messages had been getting weird and I was worried." She tries to get you away from your window and actually talk to her about what's wrong, but you refuse, waving her off half-heartedly. There's no use. You can't get out. Can't even muster up the courage to leave in the middle of the night. Not after they caught you.

You'd tried sneaking out, but the door creaked and your brothers dragged you back to your room. Dirk sleeps in the same bed as you now, to make sure you don't leave. You cling to him and mouth silent words into his arms. About leaving. About dying. About already feeling too dead to care.

-

Eventually, your Bro makes you strife it out. He throws a sword at you and almost stabs your eye out.

"Roof. Now."

You stare at him blankly. He motions up before disappearing. A sigh wraps itself around your brain as you pull yourself from the nature program on TV.

He's waiting, completely still as you pull the sword up defensively in front of you. You can't see him come, but you feel the rush of air as he brings the katana down full force. You block a swipe to your head.

This continues as you block and he strikes. Until you get tired of parrying about and actually start attacking. He looks taken aback but still somewhat happy. But he moves too quickly and your feet are too sloppy and you trip.

Face first.

On the edge.

There's a moment of clarity in all the blood rush that you realize you really don't care at all. You could keep falling and not give two shits about what happens. Then you feel your arm get pulled nearly out of its socket and you scream.

Bro pulls you back to the middle of the roof, all quick movements and shocked expression, while you hold your arm tightly, fighting back tears at the twinging throb. He looks terrified.

"Holy shit Dave."

You shrug your shoulders and grit your teeth at the shooting pain it causes.

"What do you mean-" he mimics you. "You could have died."

You only shrug one shoulder this time. When you turn back to go downstairs, Bro flicks in front of you.

"Nuh uh. You don't just get to shrug and walk away. Let me say it again. You. Could. Have. DIED. That's serious. That's something to flip your shit about."

"Bro, just let me go downstairs."

"No. We're talking about this."

"I could always take the back way down." You jab your thumb back to the place you almost fell, humorless grin on your face.

The next thing you know your cheek is stinging and you can't see straight. He just hit you. As your vision comes back, you look at Bro. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't know how. He ends up leaving you on the roof. You go to bed with a hurt shoulder and an empty mind.

-

Three days after John's birthday you try to kill yourself.

You need an out and this is the only way you can think of. Maybe in whatever afterlife you go to you'll be able to travel.

In the bathroom, you sit in the shower, shirtless and surrounded by National Geographic pictures. With your sword you open up your arms, letting the blood run onto the papers. It hurts and you feel and you love it. You pass out to red red red porcelain all around you.

-

You wake up to Dirk shaking you. He's frantic and you can't think of why as your eyes groggily open. You're greeted with red all over you and remember why he's hysterical. Your head hurts and you look at him with a one sided smile. He grabs a washcloth and wipes the blood from your arms. The cuts are numb as he wraps them tightly. You let him pull you into your room, head hanging low with guilt and some sort of dizziness.

"Don't tell Bro." Your mouth feels fuzzy as you work around your heavy tongue. He pulls your limbs into cleaner, looser clothes and sits you on the bed.

"Of course I'm gonna tell him. Why wouldn't I?"

"He's already worried enough. Don't tell him."

"Dave you tried to kill yourself."

You look up at him with a blank stare. "I needed out."

"What the hell do you mean you needed out?! That's all you say for any of your problems. 'I need out.' Out of what!"

"Of Texas! Here! Whatever the fuck is going on in my brain! I want to go places, Dirk. I can't get stuck here. And I can _feel_ it. I can feel myself getting cemented and I can't do it anymore!"

Your head is throbbing and you can feel the pinpricks of tears at the corners of your eyes, but he can't tell. Not with your shades on. He can't tell. He won't tell. He shouldn't be able to tell. But he can. You head drops and he kneels down in front of you.

"Dave."

You don't look at him.

" _Dave_."

Glancing gets you a soft look. He places his palms on your cheeks and smooths his thumbs under your shades. Your diaphragm spasms and you let out a hiccuped sob. Dirk shushes you softly as you start crying. You hate crying. Especially in front of your brothers.

He moves his arms around you in a hug. It's all slow and soft and calculated. Making sure you're alright. You cling to him despite the growing ache in your forearms. The junction between his neck and shoulder is where you rest your head. Dirk hushes you with a hand rubbing your back. He's warm and comfortable. Your breathing slows to an almost normal rate.

And then it kicks right back up again when a shout comes from the bathroom. It's your Bro. He's home.

"Can someone please explain to me why there's bloody magazines all over the fucking shower?!"

He slams your door open and stares at the two of you. Dirk moves a hand into your hair, smoothing out your breathing.

"The fuck is wrong with Dave's arms?"

You lethargically roll your head over to face him. The lip between your teeth must give you away because his posture stiffens considerably.

"You did fucking not."

You shrug, trying not to glance away, and he stalks over to the two of you.

"Bro." Dirk's tone is low.

"No, I want to know if the kid tried to fucking off himself."

You nod and swallow hard, not up to talking to him. His eyebrows knit together and he grabs your wrist. You suck in a gasp at the pain and squeeze your eyes shut.

"This shit is not okay." You shake your head and try to wiggle your arm out. All you result in is a keen of pain as you grate worse. Dirk shoves him off of you and you re-open your eyes.

"Bro he knows. Stop it!"

"I'm not just gonna 'Stop it' Dirk. He tried to off himself in the fucking shower!"

"He needs out." You snap your eyes to Dirk and he motions at you to explain.

"Texas is too... I don't know. I feel stuck. Like bad stuck. Home stuck or something. I can't get out and I tried to leave but that obviously didn't work and I'm fucking stuck here and I need to go." You're staring at the collar of Dirk's shirt.

Bro makes this pained laugh and you almost start crying again.

"So you tried to kill yourself because you got some hormone induced wanderlust?"

You stare at him wide eyed and drop jawed, trying to figure out where you went wrong in telling him. And then you're wondering why Dirk is pulling you backwards by you stomach and Bro's got his hand pressed to his cheek.

"Dave hey. Dave calm down. He's an ass I know but you don't want to get in a fight like this."

Dirk sounds frantic again and you realize you're swaying with dizziness. He holds you steady by your shoulders and you latch a death grip on his wrists.

"I think you should leave." Bro stares at Dirk like he just pulled a rabbit out of his ass.

"I should what?"

"You're obviously not taking him seriously. He just spilled his fucking guts and you laughed. He needs to calm down and be able to talk without someone belittling him, so get out."

Bro looks like he wants to say something, yet again, but Dirk has murder written on his face so he leaves. Your shoulders sag in relief and Dirk turns his attention back to you. You shuffle awkwardly before he sits the both of you back down, wrapping his arms around your torso and sets your back flush to his chest. He's rubbing comforting circles in your sides and his mouth is pressed into your hair.

"Next week over break," he starts. "Do you want to go on a road trip?"

You sit there, shocked still, and nod your head aggressively, making you wince at the pounding.

"Yes yes yes are you kidding me yes!"

"I'm pretty sure I can get Bro's car, and we'll go to the west coast because that's where the cool shit is."

You've started crying but this time you're overwhelmed by the sheer amount of nice he's being to. You turn around and hug him tightly, so so tight it hurts your arms and your body and you brain, but it doesn't matter because he's getting you out. He hugs you back just as tight, if not tighter.

"You're gonna get out of here Dave. You're gonna get out and go places and do crazy things because you're Dave Mother Fucking Strider. And you don't get stuck in Houston, alright? You don't get cemented anywhere."

You nod against his shoulder, a snotty sniveling mess. He shushes you again with his fingers in your hair and his body just existing. The complete solidness of him just, ironically, grounds you. One of his hands finds its way to your forearm and his thumb rubs over the bandages.

"Please don't try that shit again." It's barely even whispered but you can hear it plain as day.

You shake your head. "I won't, don't worry."

Dirk sits there, and you think you feel something wet on your shirt, but you won't bring it up when he lets you go. And he doesn't for a good half hour. When he pulls away, his face is red and splotchy, but you pretend you don't notice. He laughs awkwardly, and you swallow with a sandpaper throat. He must catch on because he stands up quickly.

"You need water, um, hold on."

He back in less than a minute, water glass in hand. You take it gratefully and down it almost all in one go. He makes you slow down so you don't drown from a cup of water, and you thank him silently.

"You want to start packing? There's only so much time between now and break."

"Nah, I've already got everything." You drag the bags out from under your bed. He looks interested but not surprised.

"How long you had those packed?"

"Couple months before you guys caught me leaving."

"You were prepped, damn."

"Heh, yeah."

The two of you talk for hours about the places you want to go and the things you want to do. You talk about what he's making and how him and Jake are doing. You talk until you drop, literally. You can't keep going, you're so damn tired. He shuffles you into the bed and snuggles in next to you. The lights are off and there's only Dirk and he's warm and solid and keeps you safe. And for the first time in months, you don't go to sleep wishing you were dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I SOMEHOW MANAGED TO MAKE IT END IN SLEEP YET AGAIN  
> but hey  
> I've been working on this fanfiction for a good three weeks now  
> not that its been a solid three weeks, I'm just lazy and didn't want to write during finals time, so yeah.  
> This is actually my longest fanfiction yet!!!!!  
> The idea actually stemmed from me discovering my camera was broken while I was cleaning my room and I cried for a good five minutes before I realized i could still transfer pictures haha smart me.  
> But I too feel like I'm gonna get stuck, in Nebraska of all places, so yeah life experiences kids.  
> As always I would love your commentary because I love comments and it helps me strengthen my writing. I've got a DirkJake one in the works and (different fandom holy crap!) a Mystery Skulls fanfiction already started! So you'll see some stuff in January.  
> Bye guys!


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